The dump truck rolls along the bumpy ground, spilling some of its sandy load. The driver toots the horn. I study the truck’s unique paint job—bright green cab with orange around the front fenders, and a black bumper.
Suddenly the truck goes a little off course and crashes into my beach chair.
“Whaaaaaa,” my son cried. “Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” he said, gesturing toward his truck.
“OK, here you go baby,” I said as I set the truck beside him.